


Tempting the Pure

by TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A mission from Hell, A tempting most vile, Don’t copy to another site, Drunk confessions, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 19:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20120545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: (Rated E) Prompt: Crowley is tasked by hell with seducing an angel. Tempting them into falling victim to lust and sodomy. They've given him the task because its considered impossible, as a way to make Crowley admit he is not as skilled as he is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a ficlet prompt. Well, it’s a fic now. Big enough to be split into two chapters. I hope you’re happy. (Actual prompt fulfillment and E rating in chapter 2.)

Crowley wanted to laugh. He really did. He would’ve laughed if it all wasn’t so blessedly ridiculous. He stared at the message—which was really more of a scribble on his walls—and then put his face in both hands. He huffed a little laugh after all, more out of desperation than anything else.

“You know I can’t miracle away the writing like this!” he shouted at the wall. “Do you know how hard it is to keep your rooms clean in this filthy city? Do you expect me to clean thisssss by hand?”

The year was 1846 and he had settled back into his life in London rather well. He’d be gone from the city for a while—lots of tempting in Italy to do, a spot of spreading sin in Austria (not that they needed it). In fact he had returned a little over two months ago. Crowley had been planning to sleep away most of the century, but Hell had other plans, and he had to dance to their tune if he was to stay on Earth. Stay with Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale. 

There was a longing deep inside his chest to see the angel again, to exchange stories, to drink together… to see him smile. He hadn’t told him that he’d be out of the country. Hadn’t even told him he’d woken up at all. Aziraphale was under the impression that Crowley was still sleeping, locked away in his rooms, demonic energy surrounding the place so that no one would even think of entering them. He’d been careful to avoid the angel in the city. It was always so easy to spot him… that delightful aura of grace and goodness that accompanied him. It made Crowley want to recoil and draw closer at the same time.

He looked up again to see the bad handwriting on his wall. It had gained an addendum.

YOU SHOULD NOT CARE FOR CLEAN WALLS. YOU SHOULD CARE ABOUT COMPLETING YOUR ASSIGNMENT. WE WILL BE WATCHING YOU CLOSELY UNTIL YOU DO.

“Watching me? Like—”

The wall creaked.

WE HAVE EYES ON YOUR FEEBLE DWELLING. BRING AN ANGEL HERE AND COMPLETE YOUR TASK IN THIS ROOM. THEN WE WILL CONSIDER IT FULFILLED.

Crowley dug both hands in his hair. Of course. Of course they’d want to watch. He groaned. He knew what they were up to. It was so obvious. Give the demon a task that is unfulfillable. Make him come back crawling on his knees, asking for forgiveness for not being able to do it. Demote him, make him suffer. Humiliate him. Crowley, the ever cocky, ever successful. They wanted to see him kneel.

He would show them. He would show them all.

Crowley disappeared from his rooms with the wave of a hand, the air making a faint pop where it was displaced, rushing in to fill the void left behind. The wall still stood, silently. It read:

DEMON CROWLEY! YOU ARE TO TEMPT AN ANGEL OF THE LORD INTO SODOMY AND LUST. MAKE ONE OF HER CREATURES FALL INTO THE EMBRACE OF DARKNESS.

————————————

For all his determination, Crowley’s resolve faltered for a moment as he stood outside Aziraphale’s shop. It wasn’t just about going through with this plan, it was about going through with it with Aziraphale’s help. It had to be him. No other angel would… no. Crowley didn’t want it to be anyone else. Not in a thousand years. Not in six thousand years. He swallowed. He’d go in there and explain. Aziraphale would understand. They supported each other, after all. What was one small temptation among friends?

A vision of a naked, flushed angel writhing underneath him shot through his mind. It was a vision that he had played in his head so many times before. One that he hadn’t thought to play out this particular way… but somehow he was a little bit glad for it. Glad that he had an excuse. (He shouldn’t need one, he realised. Aziraphale would never push him away, would he?)

Crowley swallowed and opened the door to the shop. There he was, in all his glory. Just as he left him. Small, unassuming Aziraphale, pushing a book back onto a high shelf, stretching himself to do it, straightening his jacket as he was finished. He turned around with a business smile on his face, the line falling from his lips automatically.

“Sorry, we’re not— Crowley!”

It wasn’t fair how his face lit up like this. How his eyes widened and then crinkled along the edges. How his lips curved into a gleeful laugh. How the very room seemed to start glowing from the inside out like a sunrise. It wasn’t fair what it did to Crowley to see such joy on the angel’s face at his arrival, how his heart grew several sizes and seemed to jump from his chest. How his skin grew hot and his throat grew dry.

“How was your nap, my dear boy?” Aziraphale continued and moved towards the demon immediately, put both hands on Crowley’s arms. “You’ve been sleeping for such a long time. Let me catch you up! I made notes!”

Crowley wanted to say some snappy response, wanted to shrug it all off, but the words never came. His throat constricted, now that he was finally faced with Aziraphale again and realised just how much he had missed him. What a fool he had been to stay away.

“Crowley? What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked and his brow creased in worry. “Is everything alright, my dear?”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley managed and was infinitely glad that his sunglasses hid the way his eyes were shining with unshed tears. Where did that come from?

“Yes?” the angel replied, patiently smiling, now holding Crowley’s hands in his.

“I… I missed you. It’s… ah… it’s good to see you,” the demon stammered. Ridiculous, he chastised himself. In the beginning of their acquaintance they sometimes hadn’t seen each other for centuries. Now it had taken only a little over two years in Italy and the thought of Aziraphale waiting for him to make him dissolve in a puddle of disgraceful mush.

“Oh my dear, dear boy. I’m ecstatic to have you back. Come on, come in,” Aziraphale gushed and waved a hand, which made the front door lock itself, the sign turn to closed and the shutters on the windows lock. “I’ve acquired a marvelous vintage that I’ve been saving to try it with you. You’ll stay a while, won’t you?”

Crowley nodded mutely. There was no rush. Hell never expected their orders to be carried out posthaste, and he had in fact missed Aziraphale. Very much. There was no harm in catching up before he’d spring the news. The angel beamed and dragged him by the hand into the backroom of the shop, their skin heated where they touched.

And just then he wondered if he could go through with it after all.

They were quickly settled in a pair of armchairs, a glass of red in their hands. It was so familiar that Crowley relaxed immediately, and Aziraphale seemed to be much the same. They fell into small talk, mostly Aziraphale catching him up on the events of the first half of the 19th century… though what he deemed important was more about art and food, and only had any political facts thrown in when they were prudent to understand the context.

After a bottle they were already pretty sloshed. Crowley usually had a high tolerance for the stuff, but somehow his emotional state seemed to compromise him. That and the flush on his angel’s face. He cleared his throat after a moment of silence to catch Aziraphale’s attention.

“So, yeah. I’ve been awake for about two years, actually,” he mumbled into his glass. “Hell insisted on me going to Italy, corrupt a few clerics. Sent Hastur of all people to wake me.”

“And you didn’t think to say hello?” Aziraphale asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“Oh, I wanted to. Believe me. I… I just…” Crowley replied. “I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you for only a few hours and then disappearing again.”

“My dear boy, you are too precious,” Aziraphale said, his voice dripping with affection like warm molasses, sweet and sticky. Crowley wanted to sink into it, let it envelop him.

“Shut up,” he replied instead, let his voice drawl, looked to the side.

“You know what?” Aziraphale said. “I don’t think I will.”

Crowley looked back, his eyes wide. This was new. This was entirely new. Normally the angel would make an offhand comment, Crowley would berate him and Aziraphale would just huff and leave it at that. They had been doing that for centuries. Ages! They weren’t even THAT drunk yet!

“What?” he said with emphasis.

“You are precious. Precious as a person. Precious to me. I… I missed you so much, Crowley. I missed you too.”

Crowley downed his glass in one go.

“Now what in HEAVEN am I going to do with THAT?” he shouted as he miracled more wine into the glass and downed it once more.

“Do with it as you will. I’m merely telling the truth. Angels cannot lie.”

“Lying by omission is still lying, and you’ve been doing that since I’ve known you.”

“Have not!” Aziraphale harrumphed. He mirrored Crowley and drained his wine in much the same way as the demon. “And even if I had—which I have decidedly not—the truth is that I missed you terribly, dear boy. Much more than ever before.”

Crowley let his glass fall to the floor, instinctively vanishing any traces of wine in it before it hit the carpet. Aziraphale wouldn’t take kindly to having part of the shop ruined. He stared at the angel, who looked at him with some sort of newfound resolve, his face flushed with alcohol, his eyes gleaming. Fuck me up, Crowley thought. He had never looked as heavenly, as good, as delectable.

“I was THIS close to go and just wake you up so many times, but I thought, I said to myself, I said that that would be just selfish. I have no right cut your nap short. I mean you certainly needed it. I thought… I thought…” Aziraphale almost sobbed, voice slurred by the wine. “I thought I’d wait for you, no matter how long it would take… You would come back to me. You always… you always do… and I… I…”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley breathed and continued in a much softer voice. “What is it you want to tell me?”

The angel swallowed and put his glass to the side. Then he got up and in one fluid motion sank to his knees between Crowley’s. The demon could barely suck in a breath before Aziraphale had wrapped his arms around his middle, buried his face in Crowley’s stomach.

“I just… I just missed you, my dear boy,” he whispered into Crowley’s clothes. “So much.”

Crowley crumbled on the spot. He was absolutely incapable of keeping himself together anymore, and he couldn’t even blame the alcohol. He flung his sunglasses across the room. His hands were shaking as he put them on Aziraphale’s face, turning it up so their eyes could meet. He was aware that he was crying, silent tears running down his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. There was no front to uphold.

There was only his angel.

“Aziraphale…” he whimpered.

“Oh my love…” Aziraphale said and turned his head to kiss Crowley’s fingers. “They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. In my case it made me finally realise that I can’t be without you. Not anymore.”

“I never want to leave you again,” Crowley breathed. “Never. I… I’ve loved you for… for an eternity.”

“I’ve been a fool. Such a fool.”

Crowley laughed softly. “You are pretty dense, yes.”

“Vile serpent!” Aziraphale complained, but there was no real weight behind it. 

His face lit up with one of his most joyful smiles and Crowley melted right there and then. He sank to the floor, right into Aziraphale’s lap, almost bringing their lips together on instinct, but held himself back at the last second.

“May I?” he asked shyly. Yes, he was a demon, but he would never assume. Not with his angel.

Aziraphale didn’t answer. He simply kissed Crowley, pressing him back into the armchair. There was somehow no hurry, no urgency. It felt natural, gentle and soft. It felt like Crowley’s body was lighting up, being flooded with Aziraphale’s love, glowing from the inside out. It was like he was filled up with sugary sweetness until he couldn’t bear it and then some more. His hands were fisted in the back of Aziraphale’s coat as he made small noises of pleasure at the way the angel was licking in his mouth, enjoying him like a particularly tasty treat. Aziraphale had his hands in Crowley’s hair, scratching gently at his skull, which elicited the most delightful groans from both of them.

Even though Crowley hadn’t made an effort just yet—it was easier to fit into his favourite women’s trousers without that—he already felt incredibly aroused. Like he was floating and Aziraphale was the only anchor he had to earth.

When they parted at last, Aziraphale sighed just like he did after a scrumptious meal. There was a hint of mischief playing around his eyes. Crowley wished he could stop time to see it forever.

“I love you very much my dear.”

“Oh, angel… my angel…”

“Yours,” Aziraphale beamed with a little proud smile that was too adorable to be entirely fair. “I’ve been yours for what feels like forever. Although…”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. That was an… interesting tone.

“Although?”

“I did have my dalliances with the occasional human. How long is an angel supposed to stay alone with this very human body to take care of?”

“By dalliances you mean…”

“Sex. I mean sex. Surely you did the same?”

“Sure,” Crowley said, no shame in it. “Not every temptation needs to end in it, but if the mood strikes…”

“Precisely. You’re not cross with me?”

“Aziraphale, right now you could tell me you’re a serial killer and I would still worship you.”

“Oh! Well, I am not a serial killer, I can tell you as much,” Aziraphale replied, his ears red.

Crowley smiled and leaned forward to kiss Aziraphale’s cheek, drawing his lips along the soft skin. Both sighed contently, hands finding each other.

“But it’s good that you bring this up. You know the actual reason I showed up here in the first place is a new ‘mission’ I’ve been assigned, and I fear I might need your help with it.”

“Another temptation?”

Crowley laughed and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s neck. “You could say that.”

“Invoking the Arrangement, my dear boy?”

“Not as such. You’d have to play a more… passive role.”

Aziraphale’s frown was audible. Crowley drew back and put one hand on his cheek, caressing the soft skin with his thumb.

“Hell wants me to… well…”

“Well, what? Spit it out.”

“Hell wants me to tempt an angel.”

“Oh, right,” Aziraphale said. “Well… You’ve tempted me many times. To good food, the occasional opera, the—”

“In the biblical sense, angel.”

“In the… oh. Oh!” Aziraphale gasped and his ears grew red. “In that way…”

“Yes. Well, they don’t actually expect that I’m going to be successful and they didn’t specify YOU in certain terms. You are free to refuse and I’ll report back a failure. Wouldn’t be my first.”

“What would happen?”

Crowley shrugged and let his hand glide into Aziraphale’s hair, where he could play with the fluffy curls that had attracted him for millenia. His stomach fluttered at the mere thought that he was allowed to touch like this now. It felt so easy, so natural. Like they had always been this close—and in a way they had been, just without the physical element.

“Nothing much. I’d have to admit defeat and they would have a right to gloat. For some centuries, or maybe even longer. I do have a fairly admirable track record, so I think they simply set me up to fail. Everyone knows it’s impossible to tempt an angel.”

“Is it?” Aziraphale smiled and pushed himself up.

Crowley gasped at the feel of his angel’s suddenly manifested effort, which pressed into his crotch like hot iron. The feeling was so overwhelming that he fell forward into his arms, the mere idea of Aziraphale wanting him in this way short-circuiting his brain.

“You can’t… you wouldn’t…”

“What, my dear boy?” the angel asked and gently bit Crowley’s neck.

A shudder ran through the demon’s body as he manifested a cock that immediately strained against his trousers, just so he could push back.

“Oh YES!” Aziraphale moaned and bit him in earnest.

Crowley keened. “You bastard!” he yelped.

“Your bastard.”

“Go—Someone help me, that’s true,” Crowley sighed, but it was full of affection rather than annoyance. “You can’t tell me that you want me to ravish you in front of the eyes of Hell. Not for… not for our first time…”

“No one said they’d be watching!” Aziraphale jumped. “Are they watching now?”

“They are observing my rooms. I’m to do my… tempting there.”

“That’s quite a mission…”

“Well, I could claim anything—and I do, most of the times. Remember the Spanish Inquisition? This time, however, it seems like they want to see the evidence.”

Aziraphale seemed to contemplate this earnestly. Heavy thought processes were always written on his face with the most adorable frown. Crowley kissed his wrinkled forehead.

“You should really sober up for this.”

“I did. Around the time I kissed you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “Oh, right. So did I.”

“Let’s do it. It’ll be more convincing if it’s really the first temptation, won’t it?”

“I did come here with that in mind, angel,” Crowley said and his eyes were soft. “But I won’t force you to go through with it.”

“Nonsense. I’m offering. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Having Someone knows how many demon’s watch us? I mean I’ve done it before, on really high profile missions, but you… I had no idea you were into something like this…”

Aziraphale shrugged offhandedly. “I’ve participated in my fair share of orgies back in the days.”

“Rome. Ugh. I should’ve known. You had that sparkle in your eye that I could never place. Why didn’t you invite me back then?”

“It’s not my place to tempt anyone. Besides, we were hereditary enemies.”

Crowley huffed. “We still are, you wicked thing.”

“Then will this vile fiend tempt this pure angel into his bed?” Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s ear. “I’ll make it good. I might even blaspheme for you.”

Crowley couldn’t do anything but laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale stumbled a few feet, coming to rest on the edge of Crowley’s desk.

“Careful there,” Crowley said and placed a steadying hand on the angel’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Aziraphale gave him a pleased smile, which was part drunken stupor and part shy glow. Crowley licked his lips. He knew that the angel was only playing drunk (alright, they did have a few more glasses to make it feel believable, but not quite that much) and yet… and yet.

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Aziraphale answered with the dutiful and determined voice of a drunk mind that has to reassert its own thoughts out loud to make it believe itself. “Wouldn’t want that… Crowley?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Why did you bring me to your place?”

Aziraphale was all innocent open eyes, eager enthusiasm. Even if they weren’t playing, Crowley would be hard pressed to resist tempting him right now. With a twinge he realised that this was exactly what he had done for millenia. But no more. Aziraphale knew what to say if he wanted it to stop. Crowley would crawl back to Hell if it meant protecting his angel’s wellbeing. With that in mind he stepped between Aziraphale’s legs and put his hands on his waist.

Aziraphale let out a startled Oh! at the touch and jumped a little.

“I thought we might celebrate,” Crowley said.

“Haven’t we been celebrating all night?”

“Not like this.”

“Like wha—” Aziraphale was effectively cut off by Crowley bringing one of his hands up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “Oh…”

“How long have we known each other, angel?”

“Since the beginning, my dear boy.”

“And you haven’t forgotten who I am?”

“You’re the serpent who started this whole mess,” Aziraphale said, an adorable drunk smile on his lips, a blush that deepened as Crowley first licked across his knuckles, then kissed up his arm. “A vile tempter.”

“The vilest of all,” Crowley laughed. He had reached the angel’s ear and leaned in. “Now tell me, angel, would you like to lie with the original sin?”

He could feel the shiver that ran through Aziraphale’s body, the tremble of his fingers where they had clutched the front of Crowley’s shirt. There was nothing fake about this. The angel was completely on board. The realisation and the knowledge ignited a fire deep in Crowley’s chest that was part lust, part desperate love.

“Crowley,” he whimpered, arousal bleeding into his voice. “You know I can’t. Angels do not… lie with anyone. Much less with demons.”

“Your body seems to have other ideas,” Crowley said and pressed their crotches together.

Aziraphale barely suppressed a curse. “My body is corporeal. My essence is still holy.”

“I have some ideas of what to do to your essence, angel…”

Crowley leaned in and bit down on Aziraphale’s neck, just above his collar.

“Oh, heavens…” the angel gasped.

“Blaspheming already? Bad angel…” Crowley chuckled and sucked a bruise into his skin.

Aziraphale tensed up at that comment, not only because of the jolt of pleasure that washed through him, but also because he had been caught.

“I really should leave… I can’t—”

“Oh, but you CAN. Trust me, angel. I’ll make it good for you.”

Crowley pressed them together once more, Aziraphale groaning. He proceeded to sweep the angel up in a downright filthy kiss that had him squirming in his grasp, panting as they parted. Aziraphale’s hair was disheveled, his lips red and kiss-swollen, his trousers tented. He clung to Crowley’s shirt as the demon pulled back, an undignified mewling noise escaping him.

“You’ll take care of me?” he asked, his voice so small Crowley could barely hear it.

“I promise, angel. You’ll never want to leave my bed again.”

Crowley held Aziraphale’s gaze until he saw him nod imperceptibly, then stepped forward and picked him up. Aziraphale wrapped his legs around Crowley’s body and let himself be carried to the next room, his face hidden in the crook of his demon’s neck, whispering words of love only for Crowley’s ears.

When they reached the large, plush bed, Crowley threw Aziraphale on it. The angel yelped in surprise, much to Crowley’s delight, who let out a low chuckle.

“Just enjoy the show,” he said and pulled at his cravat.

Crowley’s clothes were very similar to Aziraphale’s, only he elected to wear black and dark green tones, and also had fewer layers. He wasn’t going to strip for Hell, but he needed to put on a bit of a show nonetheless. There was no reason to limit his miracles now, as they were actively contributing to his very important temptation. So every time he pulled at a piece of clothing it magically detached from his body with no need to do something as mundane as opening buttons. When he was naked except for his trousers, he put a foot between Aziraphale’s legs on the bed. The angel jumped in surprise, having been mesmerised by the display.

Crowley shook his head, red curls falling loose around his bare shoulders, glasses flung across the room. His eyes glowed deeply orange as his toes traced the outline of Aziraphale’s effort through the cloth.

“Like what you see?”

Aziraphale whimpered and averted his eyes.

“Angel, I thought you wanted this,” Crowley said, his voice like honey. “Tell me. Tell me you want it. That you want this demon to ravish you.”

Aziraphale sucked in a breath. This was it. Both the consent that said he actually wanted to go through with it, and the verbal confirmation that Hell needed, to show that the temptation had actually worked. Crowley would immediately stop everything if Aziraphale had a shadow of doubt. His breath quickened as his heart grew anxious. The angel squirmed under his foot.

“... yes,” he said, more an exhale than a word.

“I can’t hear you,” Crowley said and pushed his foot down. Aziraphale dug his fingers into the blanket, gasping at the pressure.

“Yes!” he shouted. “Yes, I want it!”

Crowley’s heart did a leap, his tense muscles relaxed, and his smile grew cruel.

“Then tell me what you want. Tell me EVERYTHING.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale moaned. “I can’t… you know I can’t… I’ve never…”

Ah, he wanted to play it that way. Pure and untouched. Even better. Still…

“You have a vivid imagination, angel. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought of me this way in all of our years?” Crowley drawled. He crawled onto the bed, his legs bracketing Aziraphale’s body, hands next to his head, staring down into his wide eyes. “You must have. I’ve thought of having you in so many different ways…”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said and grabbed the blanket a little tighter. “I… I have. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Someone like me next to you for millennia? It was inevitable. It’s actually admirable that you held out for so long.”

Aziraphale sighed. “I… I thought of your in my bed, in my arms, above me, below me, next to me. Just… you, always,” he said slowly, voice heavy. “I… I thought of you on your knees. I… dreamed of taking you. Slowly. Hard. Whatever you like.”

“Oh, angel. Let me make all of those dreams come true.”

With a wave of his hand, Aziraphale was stark naked. He gasped in surprise, but not as loudly as he moaned when Crowley swallowed his cock down eagerly.

“Oh god!” Aziraphale shouted. “Fuck…!”

Crowley hummed contently around him, holding Aziraphale’s legs down. His angel was a vision, the way he contorted on the bed, fingers going white around the fabric, eyes screwed shut in desperate pleasure. And the blasphemy… that was a whole other layer of arousal. Oh, he would have to stake a claim on him, that much was absolutely clear. Not only was Aziraphale temptation itself in the way he writhed and moaned, this was entirely unprecedented. Never in the history of the world had an angel been consumed like this. Aziraphale was special.

And he was HIS.

With reluctance he let up his sucking and licked along the angel’s cock instead, sent a smoldering look up to him.

“Tell me, is this what you wanted?”

“I don’t know what I want… I just need…”

“Mhmm,” Crowley hummed contently. “I might just ride you. Your cock is magnificent. It’ll feel so good inside me.”

Aziraphale’s cock jumped and released a spurt of liquid at Crowley’s words. His ears grew red.

“Ah, you would like that after all. Now tell me that you’re only mine and I’ll give you everything you want. Just mine. Mine to use and to tempt and to own.”

“Yes!” Aziraphale finally exclaimed. “Yes! Only yours!”

Crowley’s growl was feral. He shot up the bed, capturing Aziraphale’s wrists to press them into the mattress and kissed him until neither of them even tried breathing anymore. They rutted against each other without finesse, just hard and fast. Aziraphale was so completely gone that he was reduced to pained whimpers.

Crowley felt Greed rolling off of both of them in waves. Yes! Lust and Greed and Vanity and Pride… all mixed up together in a delicious swirl of Sin that permeated the very air. He wanted to ruin Aziraphale tonight and then, when Hell had averted its eyes, he wanted to gently put him back together with soft, loving words.

With a little demonic miracle Crowley was as naked as Aziraphale and also very ready. He reached back and lined himself up, then sunk down with a groan.

“Oh merciful heavens above!” Aziraphale hissed. “Crowley!”

“Yes?” the demon replied with a grin.

“You’re… you are… Ngk…”

Aziraphale had lost his words somewhere in the movement of Crowley’s hips. They had left his mind to tumble away, leaving only blinding pleasure and overheated skin. Crowley braced himself on his angel’s chest as he moved up and down, relishing the way Aziraphale gazed at him as if he wanted to eat him up. Crowley was happy to let him. He leaned forward, mouth next to Aziraphale’s ear.

“Let’s give them a show,” he whispered. “Flip me over. I know you want to.”

Aziraphale obliged. With unearthly strength he picked Crowley up and turned them around, reversing their positions, then insinuated himself between his demon’s legs. He didn’t say anything, just pushed in again with a sigh that was all rapturous pleasure. As he was seated his wings appeared from thin air, flaring out behind him, shining like a holy vision. The contrast of his actions and his appearance was too much for Crowley, who could barely keep himself from  
babbling. He had wanted a show, hadn’t he? Aziraphale gave him a wink, a dirty grin, and then started moving. Crowley wanted to let his head fall back, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his angel. They moved and gasped and moaned until he was almost, almost there… and Aziraphale’s face showed him that he wasn’t far off himself.

Then he saw it.

Aziraphale’s wings were wrapping themselves in a dark fog, which was swirling around them. Crowley’s heart almost jumped out of his body. He wanted to yell for Aziraphale to stop, but then the angel gave a particularly hard thrust, wrapped his hand around Crowley’s cock and they both lost it, coming at the same time. Aziraphale’s face and voice at his peak were an absolute beauty. Crowley had never seen something as sublime as his angel gasping in pleasure, leaning over him like that.

Then his own wings burst out of his body. The swirling fog enveloped both of them, their wings, their whole bodies. For a moment it cut off all light, then exploded around them into twinkling stardust.

Crowley felt the presence of Hell fade from the building. They were no longer being watched. But he couldn’t relax. No, he had never felt as tense, even though he had just gone through the most spectacular orgasm.

Aziraphale was still leaning over him, his wings fanning out—and their colour was an exquisite silver that sparkled in the low light of the room like a thousand stars, the edges of his largest feathers a dark blue. The angel was panting, staring at Crowley with wide eyes. The demon turned his head to see his own wings, now the colour of a deep, lustrous gold, speckled with white and red like a starry nebula, feathers ending in a deep, blood red.

“What?” he managed to croak.

“My dear boy…” Aziraphale breathed. “You… your wings…”

“Yours too.”

Aziraphale jumped in shock, pulling out a bit too fast, making Crowly hiss. He let his fingers glide through silver feathers, a look of wonder on his face.

“We were never meant to get as close, were we?” he asked sheepishly.

“I don’t care,” Crowley replied. “You are magnificent.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale replied with a blush.

“You don’t… you don’t mind?” Crowley asked as he got up from the bed too, joined Aziraphale to touch their wings, gold and silver.

“What better way to tell Heaven and Hell that I’m yours than by wearing demonic silver?”

“And me divine gold,” Crowley added.

“But what are we now?”

“I am yours and you are mine. That’s what we are.”

“My dear Crowley. I’ve suspected since the Bard that you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Aziraphale hummed, embracing Crowley, kissing him softly. “Well, I think we did it. Go to Hell and claim your reward.”

Crowley laughed and reverently let a hand glide over silver feathers. “I’ve already claimed it, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope you liked it!!


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